


Miracle

by brokencasbutt67



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depressed Aziraphale (Good Omens), Depression, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-09-30 22:48:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20454809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokencasbutt67/pseuds/brokencasbutt67
Summary: Guess who's projecting their depression onto fictional characters - enjoy some time in my head





	1. Chapter 1

Crowley and Aziraphale have never been so close, and yet, Aziraphale feels so far away from his demon. They averted Armageddon, survived their punishments and escaped from their roles. It’s allowed them to have a relatively normal, if never ending, life on Earth. They live together, though they have no specific home. Some nights they stay in the flat above the bookshop, some nights its in Crowley’s flat – there’s no real pattern to where they stay.

Today they’re at the bookshop. Aziraphale is using the excuse that he doesn’t want to open up to spend the day in bed with Crowley – he doesn’t want to tell the demon that following his expulsion from Heaven, he’s struggled with depression more and more, with voices of angels often filling his head. If Crowley knew just what Aziraphale was going through, every single day, he’d be in Heaven slaughtering angels left, right and centre without thought for afterwards.

That’s why he doesn’t talk about his feelings. He keeps them hidden down low, much like how he kept his love for Crowley hidden until recently. Crowley doesn’t suspect anything, as far as Aziraphale is aware, and he’s happy keeping it that way. But he’s wrong. Crowley has suspicions. He’s noticed that the angel is quieter, subdued. He’s worried, but he doesn’t know how to bring it up to the angel.

They’re laid side by side, sun is shining through the window onto the bed. It’s warming the usually cold sheets that they’re atop. Aziraphale is laid awake, stroking his fingers through Crowley’s hair. Crowley is snoring away, his head resting over Aziraphale’s heart. They’re still in their clothes – neither particularly had the energy to change into their sleepwear.

Crowley has spent most of his time in snake form, scaring away customers. He hasn’t noticed what it is that they’re coming for has changed. Aziraphale doesn’t particularly pay attention to that anyway. He doesn’t hear their comments about the _handsome guy on the sofa at the back. _He doesn’t pay much attention to them, generally. He does pay attention to some of the words that they say about him though.

_The handsome guy clearly isn’t dating the fat guy, why would he? _

That comment stung the most. Aziraphale knows he’s not the skinniest of people, but it doesn’t usually have an impact on anything. It didn’t until recently. Today has been a bad day so far, _Aziraphale __had opened up at 8am, planning only to stay open until 2pm, when he would close up. He __had __closed up by 10am though. He had been deep in thought, probably thinking about more of the comments women were making about himself, and Crowley. He was so deep in thought that he didn’t realise that there was a customer in front of him.   
“C’mon tubby, it’s not lunch for another three hours. No need to think of lunch yet, serve me first” A guy had said, manhandling a copy of a Wilde book. Aziraphale looks up, already feeling his throat tighten and tears begin to form. He blinks them away, sincerely wishing Crowley was here.   
“Get out” Aziraphale sa__ys__, though his voice is shaky. The guy looks taken aback, angry even.   
“What?” He asks.   
“I said, get out” Aziraphale snarls, anger building up now. The guy shakes his head in disbelief, throwing the book aside before bursting out of the shop, slamming the door so hard it rattles through the entire shop, surely going to wake Crowley. Aziraphale takes a shaky breath, going to lock the door before he picks up the discarded book. He tuts slightly at the awful care the book was given, muttering apologies to it as he goes to place it back on the shelf. __He sighs, slumping against the window ledge as he looks out over London.   
“Why does he want me” Aziraphale murmurs, looking to the sofa where Crowley would usually sleep.   
“He could have anyone he wants, anyone. And he chooses me. A failure of an angel, __a waste of space__” Aziraphale says, mostly to himself. __He dwells, more and more, onto his insecurities. _  
“Every time I add to conversation, with anyone, it falls flat” He mumbles. 

Thinking too hard has gotten Aziraphale back in the same mindset he was in earlier in the day. He sighs again, looking around the bedroom, before deciding to do something that’s best for everyone: Crowley isn’t weighed down by him, the women who waltz into the bookshop for Crowley won’t be disturbed by Aziraphale. Sliding out of the bed, without disturbing the sleeping demon, he makes his way down the stairs, and out onto the busy London streets.

Aziraphale walks for a while. He doesn’t know where he ends up, he only knows that he’s on a bridge. He sits on the edge, feeling the wind ruffling through his hair. The water below is barely rippling with the breeze, yet up here, the breeze is stronger. Aziraphale can feel it in his wings, even if they are in another plane of existence.

Aziraphale sits at the edge of the bridge for hours, over thinking everything. It’s not the first time he’s done this, just different bridges every time. The last time he’d done it, Crowley had found him in time.

_Rain had soaked his clothes, freezing him to the core. He wants to get up, to go back to the bookshop and curl up with a good book, with Crowley in his arms. He can’t will himself too though, so he won't. _  
“Angel” Crowley’s voice is soft, loud in the empty night though. Aziraphale looks over to Crowley. The demon is dripping with rain water, but he looks relieved to see Aziraphale, alive.   
“Hello Crowley” Aziraphale says, looking back out to the water. Crowley moves to sit beside him.   
“Are you coming home, angel?” Crowley asks. Reaching down, his hand finds Aziraphale’s, stroking his thumb over the angel’s hand. Aziraphale nods, though he doesn’t look up. He doesn’t want Crowley to see what a failure he is. 

Tonight is different. Aziraphale feels as though he’s drowning, the waves of depression hitting deep and fast. He’s drowning, and he can’t get air. The guy in the bookshop, the women who come for Crowley, they’re all grabbing his legs, pulling him deeper down. The life saver that Crowley is hasn’t come fast enough this time.

“They’ll all be better off without me. It’s a miracle” Aziraphale mutters to himself, before sliding off of the edge.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starts with Crowley's dream - fills a weekly in the GO discord from ladyoutlier on tumblr

_Crowley couldn’t get the image out of his head. Even though it wasn’t him that it was aimed at, the malice behind it was enough to scar him. Even now, weeks after the entire debacle that was their punishments, he wakes up in a cold sweat with Gabriel’s menacing grin. The harsh words from a being of peace would forever be ingrained in his mind. “Shut your stupid mouth and die already” _

_Following their punishments, they decided to take a leap in their relationship – progressing from “business associates” (Aziraphale’s choice of wording) to lovers. Crowley loves it. Finally, after thousands of years feeling how he has, he can show it to Aziraphale and not be scared._

_Their days together, while no longer numbered, remain generally the same. They go out to the Ritz, they walk around the park to feed the ducks, and everything else that they usually did. The only difference is that they hold hands, they share soft kisses and when Aziraphale gets cold, Crowley is more willing to give the angel his jacket._

_It’s one of those days when Crowley finally opens up to Aziraphale about his nightmares. They went to the Ritz for lunch, spending the afternoon staring into each other’s eyes. _

_They left the Ritz at 3.32pm, Aziraphale always notes the time. He wants to remember every minute he spends with Crowley. They spend precisely 17 minutes walking around the park before they come to the duck pond. _  
“Would you like to spend the night at mine tonight, dear?” Aziraphale asks, while tossing some bread out to the ducks.   
“Sure angel” Aziraphale smiled. Crowley smiled, taking Aziraphale’s hand in his own. 

_They leave the park at 4.39pm. Rain is beginning to pour, droplets soaking through Aziraphale’s white shirt. They get back to the car just in time, a heavy downpour starting almost immediately. The journey back to the book shop is a quick one, and they arrive outside in mere minutes. Aziraphale looks flustered, as he always does after a car journey in the Bentley. Crowley chuckles slightly, rubbing Aziraphale’s thigh as he climbs out of the car._

_The flat above the bookshop looks slightly different to what Crowley expected. Where there was cold, concrete floors in his mind, there is now a carpet beneath a sofa; where there was bare walls and empty spaces, they’re now filled with photos of themselves together, with possessions he would never expect Aziraphale to have. Crowley slips his shoes off, moving to sit on the sofa. Aziraphale smiles, removing his coat and hanging it up before he walks around. He looks at the L – shape sofa that fills the space. Crowley is laid on the sofa, legs stretched out over the elongated end. He looks over and smiles at Aziraphale, watching as the angel moves to sit beside him. Crowley looks over Aziraphale, sitting upright as usual.   
“Angel, you can get comfortable, you know that, right?” Crowley murmurs, flicking the television on. Aziraphale shifts, moving to rest beside Crowley, who pulls him closer until they’re spooning on the sofa. _

_The moon sets over London, but neither notice. They’re too engrossed in each other’s embrace. It’s Aziraphale who suggests that they go to bed, only to be met with a wink from Crowley. The television goes off. Aziraphale sits up first, yawning as he does. Crowley smiles, sitting up a moment later. He follows Aziraphale through to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes as he does. The angel tuts at Crowley’s laziness, going to pick the clothes up. Crowley lazes in the bed, the duvet hiding up to his waist. He watches Aziraphale, his yellow eyes following the angel’s movements around the room as he undresses, folding his clothes onto the chair in the corner of the room. He sits at the edge of the bed, before swinging his legs around, sliding under the cover. Crowley shifts, curling close to his angel. _

_Aziraphale looks down to where Crowley’s head is resting on his chest. Aziraphale’s hand strokes through Crowley’s hair, a small, soft hiss can be heard. _  
“Crowley, you like that?” Aziraphale asks softly, still stroking his fingers through Crowley’s hair.   
“love it angel” Crowley murmurs, shifting slightly to curl closer. Aziraphale smiles, pressing his lips to Crowley’s head. Crowley shifts, the duvet falling to the bottom of his back. Aziraphale smiles, shifting to wrap his legs around Crowley’s naked body while continuing to stroke his fingers through Crowley’s hair. The demon was purring, cat like in the angel’s arms. 

_It didn’t take long for Crowley to fall asleep to the notion of the angel massaging his scalp. They shifted around through the night, blocking the sound of the storm raging outside._

_“Shut your stupid mouth and die already” _

_The moon was high when Crowley jolted upright. Sweat pooled at his waist. His chest heaved, his hands shook. Aziraphale was laid on his side beside him, alive and kicking. _  
“He didn’t get us” Crowley murmured, attempting to lay back down.  
“mmh what was that?” Aziraphale mumbled, rubbing his eyes slightly.   
“Nothing, angel, go back to sleep” Crowley said softly, shifting to curl close to his angel.   
“What was it?” Aziraphale asked, voice slightly more stern. Crowley sighed. He wants to avoid it, he doesn’t want to open this insecurity to the angel. He knows that if he doesn’t say anything, the angel will get upset.   
“Just…overthinking some stuff. It doesn’t matter” Crowley mumbles, resting his head on the pillow. Aziraphale frowns, shifting to lay on his side   
“What about?” He asks.   
“Do we have to? I wanna sleep, angel” Crowley murmurs.   
“Crowley” Aziraphale sighed.   
“Tell me, I want to help” Aziraphale said softly, resting his hand on Crowley’s chest. Crowley’s hand slides to hold Aziraphale’s, his thumb stroking over the angel’s hand. Aziraphale smiled, pressing a kiss to Crowley’s finger tips.   
“It’s something Gabriel said…” Crowley admitted. He looked over to the door, shifting to bend his knee out of the duvet.   
“What did he say?” Aziraphale asked, shifting to curl close to Crowley. Crowley looked down to Aziraphale’s head, stroking his fingers through the angel’s hair. He heard a soft moan from the angel.   
“You like that, angel?” He asked. Aziraphale nodded.   
“I’d like it more if you told me what awoke you” Aziraphale murmured.  
“It doesn’t matter, angel” Crowley murmured, though he couldn’t get the malice from Gabriel’s voice out of his head.   
  
“Crowley, it’s clearly not nothing. If you don’t tell me, I’ll…I’ll go somewhere” Aziraphale said, though he knew full well that he wouldn’t. Not at this time, and he wouldn’t leave Crowley who isn’t in the best state of mind.   
“When you were getting your punishment” Crowley mumbled. Aziraphale shifted, looking up to the demon. Crowley’s eyes are closed. He’s hiding himself, without trying.   
“It brought me flashbacks to when I got kicked…it was Gabriel who did it” Crowley admitted. He didn’t dare look at the angel, scared that the angel would laugh.   
“I thought he was going to do it again” Crowley admitted. His breath was shaky, he felt his throat tighten with the threat of tears.   
“I can’t go through it again, angel…I can’t” He admitted. Aziraphale reached over, stroking his fingers over Crowley’s chest.   
“Crowley, dear” He murmured. After a moment, Crowley looked down. Aziraphale’s heart broke – the demon’s golden eyes are filled with unshed tears.   
“I promise you, now and forever, you will never get hurt by Gabriel” Aziraphale said softly, while shifting to straddle Crowley’s hips. He reached down, cupping the demon’s cheek.   
“I will go through Heaven and Hell, fight in every war, so long as you are safe” He continued.   
“No matter the cost – no matter how many angels have to die, you will not get hurt by them again” He promised. Crowley nodded, a tear leaving his eye. Aziraphale leant down, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to Crowley’s cheek. Crowley gripped Aziraphale’s hand, too scared to let go of it.   
“How long have you had this…issue?” Aziraphale asked.   
“Since then or…more recently?” He asked. Crowley shrugged, not meeting Aziraphale’s eyes.  
“Why didn’t you tell me, dear?” He asked. Crowley shrugged. He looked down to where Aziraphale’s legs are resting by his side.   
“Crowley, dear, we really need to work on your communication” Aziraphale tutted, leaning down to kiss him again. Crowley smiled slightly, watching as Aziraphale shifted to lay in his arms.   
“But for now, I want you to sleep” Aziraphale added. Crowley nodded, curling impossibly close to Aziraphale.   
“Will you hold me, angel?” Crowley asked.   
“Of course, dear” Aziraphale smiled, a warm smile that’s reserved only for Crowley. They shift around for a moment until Crowley is wrapped in the angel – in his arms, his wings…his embrace.   
“I love you Crowley. So much so that it scared me, for so long. You’re a demon, something forbidden, something inherently wrong. But after you came to talk to me, I realised that everything I’d been told about demon’s was wrong. Because there you were, talking to me like a friend. You saw past the labels we were given, you saw me for, well, me” Aziraphale said softly.   
“It was always you there for me. No matter what trouble I got myself into, you were there. No angels” He continued.   
“A true demon wouldn’t have been. A true demon would've left me to die the first time” He added.   
“I know you will hate me for saying this, but Crowley, you are a good demon” Aziraphale pressed a soft kiss, just behind Crowley’s ear. The demon flinched for a brief moment, before relaxing slightly. He looked down to where Aziraphale’s hands are holding him in place, keeping him safe, like a seatbelt. Aziraphale strokes his hand over Crowley’s chest.   
  
Soft snores eventually fill the room. Aziraphale shifts, pulling the duvet cover tighter around himself and Crowley. 

_While Crowley sleeps, Aziraphale begins devising a plan, of how he will propose marriage with the demon. After 6000 years, it seems like just the right time. He reaches up, pulling his halo from the plane of existence that it resides in, the same place his wings usually are. It doesn’t take him long to find the perfect idea. He looks to the drawer beside the bed, the place he keeps his halo now. Taking his halo, he shrinks it down to the perfect size, slipping it into his jacket pocket across the room. _

_When the sun rises, and Crowley wakes, Aziraphale is still sleeping. It’s rare for the angel to sleep. He usually reads while Crowley sleeps, though Crowley doesn’t mind this. He likes it when Aziraphale sleeps. It’s one of the only times that Aziraphale looks genuinely peaceful, without the weight of the world on his shoulders. Most other times, he has bags under his eyes, he has worry etched onto his face. Only when he sleeps is it gone. _

_Crowley spends so much time admiring the angel’s beauty, he doesn’t realise the day ticking away. It takes him a while to notice anything, in fairness. The angel’s beauty captivates him, it takes his focus from everything else. He does eventually notice that something is different though, just as the angel is beginning to wake. _  
“Huh” He mumbles, brushing his fingers over the empty space above Aziraphale’s head. He hears a soft grumble from the angel, a sure sign he is waking up. Crowley smiles, pressing his lips against Aziraphale’s cheek as the angel begins to wake up.   
“Mornin’ angel” He murmurs. Aziraphale smiles slightly, dazed and sleep filled eyes meeting Crowley’s. 

_“Good morning, dear” Aziraphale mumbles, curling closer to Crowley. Crowley smiles softly, holding his angel close. _  
“I love you like this” He murmured. Aziraphale smiled softly, curling impossibly closer.   
“I love you too” Aziraphale smiled. He rested his head on Crowley’s shoulder, kissing his neck gently.   
“Angel, where’s your halo?” Crowley asked, stroking his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair.   
“Mhm, I dunno” Aziraphale mumbled. He curled closer, a small smile on his face. He curls up and kisses Crowley’s cheek.   
“Did you sleep well?” Aziraphale asked softly. Crowley nodded.   
“Much better” He smiled. Aziraphale smiled widely.   
“Good” Aziraphale murmured. He rubbed his eyes, waking himself up. Crowley smiled, shifting to sit up.   
“Your halo is missing, you know that right?” Crowley murmured, looking down to where Aziraphale’s head is resting on his chest.   
“Is it? Oh, dear” Aziraphale frowned. He reached up, stroking the empty space.   
“So it is. Where could I have mislaid it?” He said.   
“I’ll have a look for it. Where have we been?” Crowley asked. He made a list in his head of the Ritz, St James’ Park, the Bentley and everywhere else that they have been.   
“You stay here, look around and I’ll look everywhere else” Crowley said, while moving to climb out of the bed. Aziraphale nodded, snapping himself dressed. He reached into his pocket, fingers brushing over his ring. He looks over to Crowley, moving to hold him close and kiss him gently before they go their separate ways. Aziraphale moves to sit beside the desk, while Crowley leaves a moment later. 

_Sure, he feels bad for lying how he has, but it shows him just how much Crowley loves him.   
  
Crowley walks into the bookshop close to 5pm. He looks as though he’s been through Hell and back to find the angel’s halo – he probably has.   
“I’ve looked everywhere angel, even been out to the Dowling Estate. I can’t find it” He sighs, looking at the floor. He looks up, surprised to find the angel smiling widely.   
“Close your eyes” He asks. Crowley nods, though reluctant. He closes his eyes, though his sunglasses are hiding it. He feels Aziraphale taking his hand and then, something is pressing against his finger. He frowns, but doesn’t open his eyes, waiting until the angel gives his permission.   
“Angel…” Crowley asks.  
“You can open them, Crowley” Aziraphale murmurs. He looks up to Crowley with hopeful eyes.  
“Angel, what’s this?” Crowley asks, looking down to the ring on the middle finger of his left hand.   
“My halo” Aziraphale explained.   
“I want to give it to you, as a…gift” He added. Crowley frowned.   
“But it’s your only link to upstairs” Crowley responded.   
“I don’t want to be linked to them. After what they’ve put us through, my heaven is with you” Aziraphale pressed.  
“That’s why I ah…I want to marry you” He admitted. He kept hold of Crowley’s hand, but the demon felt the angel deflate slightly – shame?   
“Wha – Mar-ngk – Me?” Smooth Crowley, Smooth. Aziraphale nodded, his body shaking slightly.   
“Angel, look at me” Crowley said, while cupping Aziraphale’s cheek.   
“What’s going on?” He asked softly, lifting the angel’s head so their eyes met. Grey-blue eyes are filled with the hurt of 6000 years of repressed love, anxiety and so many more emotions that Crowley can’t place.   
“Angel, you know damn well I’ll marry you at the drop of a hat” __Crowley promised. He leant down and pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s. _  
_ “But you don’t have to do this if you don't want to” He murmured. _  
_ “I do” Aziraphale promised. He reached up to Crowley, sharing a soft kiss._

* * *

Crowley awoke with a jolt, sitting bolt upright. Immediately he knows something isn’t quite right. The bed beside him is empty. Easing out of the bed, Crowley’s bare feet pad along the floor as he looks around the bookshop for his angel. He’s taken aback when he sees a single sheet of paper, on the dining table, a candle dripping wax onto the table around it. He walks over, looking at it.

“_It’s a miracle Crowley. I’m sorry” _

Crowley’s heart sinks, a sob manifesting in his throat. He snaps himself dressed, racing out of the bookshop. He can hear sirens, loud across the city at the early hour. He runs at an inhuman speed to bridges, until he finds the one.

Police are swarming the area. He can see an ambulance, a body being hoisted out of the water. He knows immediately who it is, dropping to his knees into a muddy puddle. He sobs, hard. A news reporter comes over to him, squatting beside him.   
“Excuse me sir” She says softly, while the camera focuses on him. Crowley snarls at her. Something in an old demonic language he hasn’t spoken for centuries. The camera guy drops the camera, staggering backwards. Crowley chuckles slightly, the thought of Aziraphale leaving his mind for the briefest moment. He picks up the camera, throwing it off the edge of the bridge. He turns back to the worker stood by the ambulance.   
“He owns the bookshop in Soho, A.Z. Fell and Co” He states.   
“He’s my fiancée” He adds. He walks away, leaving his heart in tatters.

The walk to the bookshop is one where just about everyone avoids Crowley. He looks up to the ceiling.   
“Alright, let’s go” He takes a deep breath, and begins the journey upwards. 


	3. Chapter 3

His skin burns, aches at every step he takes.  White is all he can see. Looking around, it looks how he remembere d. The hurt of being here doesn’t outweigh the hurt in his chest at not having his angel close. It feels as though he’s lost his heart – he could die and he wouldn't be upset. He’s tempted to locate some holy water, he won’t though. He needs to be alive for when Aziraphale returns. 

White corridors are the same – he feels as though he is covering the same tracks over and over again. The only hint that he isn’t is the numbered doors that line the corridors.  He doesn’t know what number too look for, he just hopes that one of them gives him a clue to where to look. 

H e makes his way to the end of the corridor and sighs.   
“Where are you angel…” He murmurs. He catches a glimpse of himself in a mirror –  _why in hell does Heaven have a mirror here? _ \- and the sight is a punch to the gut. His face is covered in wounds – burn like scars and deep cuts.  _Heaven isn’t a place for a demon _ _to be. _

No wound will ever go as deep as the wound in his mind, the image of Aziraphale’s lifeless body will forever be ingrained into his mind. 

“Where are you angel…” He sighs, slumping against the wall and sliding down it.   
“_I_ need a miracle” He mumbles. 


End file.
